


what's yours is mine (but I cannot be yours)

by kiroiimye



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst and Romance, Exes Kagehina, M/M, Manga Spoilers, Minor Angst, Minor Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Minor pining, Pro Volleyball Player Hinata Shouyou, Pro Volleyball Player Kageyama Tobio, Sweaters, endgame atsuhina, i have no idea how to tag this, slight introspection, the sweater
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:20:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22579993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiroiimye/pseuds/kiroiimye
Summary: He pulls the sweater closer to him, pressing it against his nose to inhale its scent. Once, he recalls with a fond smile, it smelled like strong cologne and pine and home. But now...now it was dust and faint laundry softener and old memories that Shouyou hasn't tugged out of the box in a long, long time.Shouyou finds Kageyama's old sweater in the back of his closet.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu, Past Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio - Relationship
Comments: 39
Kudos: 572





	what's yours is mine (but I cannot be yours)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Silhouettart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silhouettart/gifts).



> abuse of italics and compound sentences ahead

The sweater did not belong to Hinata Shouyou. It was an old thing, fraying at the cuffs, worn yet still soft, the black logo in the corner faded. It was an old thing, and yet it still hung in Shouyou's closet, the color of washed-out cream and soft to the touch.

Shouyou tugs it off the hanger, holding it at arms' length. It had hung in bare view, where anyone could see it, but the sight of the sweater is startling new to him, as if he had not seen it before and not in a long time.

Which is true—Shouyou hasn't pulled out the sweater in literal years, ever since he was seventeen in high school, and here he is, holding the sweater in his hands, in his new dormitory at age twenty-two. 

He pulls the sweater closer to him, pressing it against his nose to inhale its scent. Once, he recalls with a fond smile, it smelled like strong cologne and pine and  _ home _ . But now... _ now _ it was dust and faint laundry softener and old memories that Shouyou hasn't tugged out of the box in a long, long time.

He rubs his finger over the material, running over the creases of the sweater, over the breaking, faded logo in the corner, and remembers his volleyball high school days and laughter in the gym and kisses in the back of the convenience store. 

Once, the sweater meant something to him, to  _ them _ , and it had been a token of something beyond simply partners and spiker and setter and ‘freak duo’ — it used to mean more than just an old sweater.

Still holding the sweater, Shouyou makes his way over to his bed, collapsing onto the mattress with the sweater gripped tightly in his arms. He pushes it away from him, staring at it, before sliding it on top of his body, over his arms.

The sweater doesn't fit how it used to; where the sleeves used to hang over his hands, it now cuffs him at the wrists, and the way it used to hang almost to his knees is now cut at his waist. 

The sweater used to be looser, he thinks. He used to swim in cotton and cream and curl against a lean body, laughing and whispering secrets in the dark before they succumbed to dreams. He used to wander about practice in an oversized sweated and be greeted with jeers from his teammates of "Oh ho, we know who you spent the night with!" and "Who's sweater is that, huh Hinata?" He used to end practice in the oversized sweater, with his small hands half covered by the sleeves, tucked into a larger pair of hands, swinging back and forth in the dead of the night, with the free hand holding a milk bread, with his sports bag on his arm.

But the sweater is tight-fitting now, stretching over his chest and gripping his arms, like how Shouyou had gripped his hands almost five years ago. He no longer swims in the sweater, but rather grown into it—the sweater fits snug around his body, tighter than he'd like to admit, but it's shockingly warm, as if kept buoyant and heated from all the memories it held.

_ "Is that my sweater, Shouyou?" _

_ Shouyou holds his own gaze in the mirror: the mirror gazes back at him, with a bright-eyed boy, dressed in a cream-colored sweater that fell to his knees, the cuffs hanging loose over his arms. He blinks away, turning over his shoulder to look at his boyfriend. _

_ "Maybe?" he offers tentatively, before pasting on a brilliant smile. "Got a problem with it, Bakayama?" _

_ Kageyama shakes his head, grinning as he leans against the doorframe of his room. He's a little smoother now, smoother and more confident than he had ever been in first year, and it shows in his stance: casual, yet imposing and intimidating, his arms crossed and taunt and muscled in his t-shirt. "Nah. No problem at all," he says.  _

_ Shouyou grins wider, flopping the large sleeves around. "Well then, can I keep this?" _

_ Kageyama matches Shouyou's smile with his own. "Don't see why not." He crosses the room in two strides, tugging at the sleeves until Shouyou is a breath away. "You look better in it than I do. Dumbass." _

_ "How's that worth a 'dumbass'?" Shouyou whines, but he's answered with a gentle kiss, and the conversation is no more. _

Shouyou smiles as he rolls over onto his side. Yes, they had been good together, him and Kageyama. The Freak Duo against all, three years of being high school volleyball stars.

And now... _ now? _ What is Hinata Shouyou now, compared to Olympic player, number one server, Kageyama Tobio? 

"Knock knock!" someone sing-songs from the other side of the door, before it creaks open. Shouyou sits straight up in his bed as Miya Atsumu ambles in, eyes warm and cheerful. "Good afternoon, Shouyou!"

"Atsumu!" He leaps off his bed and bounds across the room, jumping straight into Atsumu's arms. 

"Why, hello there!" Atsumu laughs softly, pressing his lips to Shouyou's hair. "I've missed you too, Shou-chan."

"Mm. Missed you more," he says back, nuzzling his face into Atsumu's neck.

"How are you settling in?" the setter hums, lazily drifting his kisses across Shouyou's face. "Hope the dorms aren't too crappy for ya."

"It's great, don't worry," he reassures with a smile and Atsumu's grin grows wider.

"Excellent. Wouldn't want my new spiker to be uncomfortable."

" _ My _ spiker? I think I belong to the whole team," Shouyou shoots jokingly and Atsumu swoops down to kiss him again. 

"Nope. My spiker. And if my spiker is uncomfortable in his room in any way, he's always welcome to mine." Atsumu ends it with an exaggerated wink and Shouyou swats at him, laughing out loud.

"I'm fine, but I might take you up on that offer, 'Tsumu."

His boyfriend smirks, peppering another set of kisses onto Shouyou's face. "I wouldn't mind one bit." 

It's then his eyes catch on the sweater he's wearing, and he tugs at it curiously. "What's this, Shou-chan? Never seen this in your wardrobe before."

"Why would you be looking in my wardrobe?" Shouyou teases, before he says, "It's not mine. Belongs to Kageyama."

Atsumu blinks before he analyzes the sweater, taking it in. He's quiet for all of three minutes, before he shrugs out of his track jacket, draping it over Shouyou.

"Atsumu?" he says softly

"MSBY Jackals looks better," he declares and Shouyou smiles, looking down at the faded cream-colored sweater and the black jacket draped over him.

"Yeah. I agree."

* * *

The sweater used to belong to Tobio. He thinks about that sweater sometimes--the beige colored sweater that had always been his favorite ever since he was a teenager, and it had been wonderfully soft to the touch, comfortable around his torso.

Not that he'd fit it in his current state: Tobio had long grown out of his high school clothes and even if he had the sweater back, there was a low guarantee it would fit anyhow.

Oh well, Tobio thinks idly. It always looked better on Hinata than on him anyways.

**Author's Note:**

> written at past midnight by yours truly--thank you to everyone who read it over before i got it cleaned up LOL (or cleaned up the best it could be :,,))
> 
> this one's for gab, my amazing wife and partner in everything <33 hope you enjoy this super late christmas gift (merry christmas!!) and thanks for sticking with me these last several months!! here's to more projects together LOL 
> 
> \---
> 
> yell at/with me here: [tumblr](https://kiroiimye.tumblr.com/) || [twt](https://twitter.com/kiroiimye)


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